Walls
by aMUSEment345
Summary: One shot. Post-(intra)-ep for 13X22, 'Believer'. JJ's thoughts about Reid, surrounding their conversations.


_**A.N. Post-ep (or intra-ep) for 13X22, 'Believer', with some dialogue paraphrased. JJ's thoughts about Reid, surrounding their conversations. I echo her final words.**_

* * *

 _ **Walls**_

The rapid clicking of her boots preceded her, and he steeled himself for what he knew would be coming. He set his features into a look of bewilderment, though he knew she wouldn't buy it.

"Hey!" Catching up to him. "Tell me not to worry."

 _Never._ But he played his role. "About what?"

She pushed him, and he parried. And then he lied to her, blatantly lied. And she let him.

* * *

JJ stood there and watched Reid walk away, immersed in an ever-growing sense of loss.

 _It's not just the conversation he's walking away from. He's separating himself from us. From_ me _._

She was certain he hadn't recovered from his ordeal of a year ago, because _she_ hadn't recovered from it. The memory of it...the fact of it.. flavored every moment between them. She was too wise not to realize he would hold on to some of the trauma for his lifetime. But it troubled her when it seemed like he was holding on to _all_ of it, as though sentenced to do so.

Nothing had been right since he'd gone to Mexico. In truth, it hadn't been right since before that. He'd been keeping things from them…the team, his best friend, his mother…. from the time Diana had been diagnosed with dementia. He'd not even been straightforward in telling them about _that_ , instead allowing the team to overhear him telling his nemesis, Cat Adams.

Later, he'd chosen not to share about bringing his mother home with him, and he'd never told anyone at all about bringing back the naturopathic meds from Mexico.

JJ shook her head in familiar frustration.

 _I thought we'd gotten past this, Spence, the keeping of secrets. I guess I really don't know how to show you that you're not alone. Nothing I do seems to be enough. Is this just the way you want it?_

Paradoxically, it had been when he'd been _most_ alone that he'd been the most open with her. When he'd been imprisoned, he'd been vulnerable, to the point where he couldn't hide it from her, despite a valiant effort. Once freed, he'd been frightened of the ways in which prison had changed him, and explosive in his anger toward Cat Adams. He'd let her see both of those things, too.

 _Because he had no choice. His defenses had completely broken down, he had nothing left….nothing but me._

As she thought back through their relationship, JJ wondered if it hadn't always been that way between them. Maybe the bulk of their friendship had been formed in crisis.

When she'd first met him, he'd been wary, but polite. Approachable, yet distant. He'd usually placed himself next to Gideon, who was supposed to run interference for him. But, then the whole horrific experience in Georgia had shown him just how little Gideon could actually protect him, and he'd begun to open himself to the others. In the throes of mortal terror, they'd found him in the woods that night, and he'd clung to her, and she to him. She would never forget the relief of that embrace, nor the weight of his emotional exhaustion leaning on her.

 _After the heat of that moment, things changed. He began his construction project. He built a wall, made of dilaudid. And it severed the connection between us._

During which time she'd found love, and romance, and a way to carry on her life in spite of Spencer Reid. But he'd eventually battled his addiction, and buried the wall, and they'd somehow managed to grow their friendship again.

And so, when it happened that once again Spencer Reid had become battered and bruised, this time by the people he'd once called his family, _she_ had become that for him. She'd asked him to be Henry's godfather, and he'd been too emotionally weary to raise his guard against her. He'd become enthralled, and enchanted, and, much to his surprise, connected. Without realizing it, she'd found her permanent channel through his defenses, a place where the mortar would remain soft. She couldn't have known, then, how often she would come to rely on his connection to his godson.

They'd nurtured their friendship in the subsequent days, deepening its roots, allowing it to flourish, until time and circumstance forced a change. Then, they'd become separated again, by distance, and deception, and the wall had begun to fall back into place.

 _I practically handed him the bricks that time._

Still rueful of having not told him the truth about Emily. They'd battled about that, and she'd defended herself, but she'd known she was wrong. Eventually, he'd forgiven her. Mostly.

It still hurt her to think that he'd had enough residual distrust not to share with her the fact of his falling in love...even if she'd handled her own romance in much the same way. She would have liked to share joy with him again.

 _Even if we'd known how short-lived it would be._

It had been another time of vulnerability for him. Being in love had necessitated the dropping of his defenses, which had left that vulnerability on painful display in the moment of Maeve Donovan's death. He'd been too decimated to realize the destruction of his wall that time. Too weak to resist JJ's advances. And so, eventually, he'd let her near, and, for a short while, she'd been able to love him, to try to help him heal. The bittersweetness of it stayed with her still, and her regret over how brief a time it had been. But, no matter how tender her love, it had been poured into an open wound, and he hadn't been able to bear the pain.

He'd worked hard on his wall after that. Been 'too busy' to come to dinner, or to Henry's soccer game, or even to respond to a 'how's it going'. As much as she'd tried to understand, it had hurt her, to have her love rebuffed.

Sometimes, especially at times like that, when she'd had her own feelings hurt, she'd wonder why she bothered. She had a husband, and children, after all. Why should she go chasing after someone who repeatedly pushed her away?

She'd think, ' _He's an adult. If he wants to go it alone, let him_.' And her husband would be more than inclined to agree.

But then she'd remember that she'd made a commitment, that day she'd brought him into her family. She knew no one had ever done that for him before. His mother might have, if she'd been able. His father certainly hadn't, nor his mentor. Elle, Emily. Even his first real love had left him, at the hands of another. And then Morgan, and Hotch. _She'd_ even left, once, only to return changed by her own trauma.

 _Who has he ever had, who's not left him? Who has he ever had, who's put him first?_

Internal inquiry led to epiphany, and suddenly, she understood. She knew what was happening, what he hadn't said to her. Everyone _had_ left him, except for her...and one other person. And now, that other person had gone, too.

 _He's left himself._

As soon as the words came to mind, she knew the truth of them. Reid felt like he no longer knew the person within. He was allowing himself to become defined by his faults, and not his aspirations. He thought he deserved the things that had happened to him.

 _I'm not going to let you do that_.

So she sought him out again, and found him, staring at the closed-circuit image of Owen Quinn sitting at the interrogation table. All he could tell her was that he couldn't see it. He couldn't make out whether Owen was a suspect or a victim. And he couldn't see _why_ he couldn't see it.

 _Because your unwarranted guilt is blinding you, Spence._

She confronted him with the thing he'd withheld from her.

"He quit two weeks after you were arrested. But you knew that, didn't you?"

He insisted it wasn't connected, but she pushed him. "In your rational brain, maybe. But I know there's a part of you that you don't show anyone." _Not even me._

His silence served as assent, and she continued.

"And you're trying to figure out why Spencer Reid got out of his prison, and Owen Quinn didn't."

 _Because, deep down, you think you deserved it. My dear, sweet, infuriating friend._

It was her chance to remind him that he was loved. That he was considered family, that he was valued. And she hoped he would take her final words to heart. Because Owen Quinn's family had arrived. They would learn something about who Quinn was by seeing how he reacted to his family.

 _Please react to your family, Spence. Please be one of us again. Please see yourself the way we see you._ _Please don't keep setting yourself apart._

Even the FBI seemed to have conspired in the separation, by mandating an intermittent sabbatical, which had done nothing to help him. Because JJ knew that he hadn't been using his forced sabbaticals for healing. He'd been using them to isolate himself, to rebuild his walls, brick by nefarious brick. Each time he'd returned, he'd been a little more removed, a little more hidden behind his wall of self-reproach.

As Reid left for the interrogation, JJ couldn't help but remember her own forced time away from the BAU, years ago. It reminded her that she'd become pretty good with the trowel herself. She knew how to keep others out of places she'd rather not visit, just as much as Spencer Reid did.

She'd long debated her behavior during and after that time. Her work with the State Department had been top secret, that's why she hadn't said anything to anyone about it, right? Not the fact of her own trauma. Right? Not the guilt of having lost her unborn child.

She'd told no one, until forced into it by being taken captive and traumatized a second time. Afterward, it had been Spence who'd reached out to her, as she'd relived that trauma.

 _And I pushed you away. We are a pair, aren't we?_

But he'd persisted, just as she intended to persist now. He'd refused to leave her alone to wallow. He'd forced her to confront her demon.

 _So which demon do I make you confront? Yourself? Cat? The person who betrayed you to her?_

In the end, she knew, he would have to decide for himself and, just as she had, he would have to do it alone. He would condemn, or forgive, as his conscience directed. Which didn't mean she wouldn't try to give his conscience a little shove in the _right_ direction. She wasn't about to have him exit the encounter hating someone she loved.

 _When you're done, I'll be here. And while you're busy, I'll be taking that wall down, piece by piece. And hiding the bricks, permanently!_

All she needed was time.

* * *

Soon enough, the case came to an end. A madman was in custody, Owen was exonerated, and a celebration was called for.

JJ smiled as Spence approached her, but her smile evaporated at his words.

"I won't be going with you to Rossi's."

And there she was, saying it again, making a game of it this time.

"Tell me not to worry."

He did. At first, he seemed sincere in telling her he was okay. But then he pulled her into an awkward and unexpected embrace. Jennifer Jareau had hugged her best friend any number of times, in joy and sorrow, in fear and relief. But this time felt different. This was not a hug. It was a statement.

"I realized I'd never thanked you for all the times you've worried about me. Thank you."

JJ did her best to keep the smile on her face, but she wanted to cry. That he should feel like he needed to express gratitude for another human being caring about what happened to him was reason enough for weeping. But her real sorrow was in the formality of his words. Because the 'Thank' sounded like 'Good' and the 'you' like 'bye'.

Suddenly filled with emotion, she did her best to infuse her answer with love, but it came out all wrong. The 'Don't' sounded like 'You're' and the 'go' like 'welcome'.

She stood and smiled sadly after him as he walked away from her. In the moment, it felt like he was walking away from the BAU. Or maybe from his life, and hers.

The only thing she knew for certain was that it felt like loss. Like the end of something.

Like time running out.

 _Don't go!_


End file.
